


Death Prayer In Heaven's Orchard

by arsenicPopsicle (fortuitousOdyssey)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-05-23
Updated: 2011-08-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:51:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortuitousOdyssey/pseuds/arsenicPopsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through accidental Shenanigans, Karkat finds out that while John Egbert may not be a homosexual, he does have a thing for Dave Strider.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You are Dave Strider, and you have a reputation for being one cool motherfucker; as a matter of fact, you are one cool motherfucker. But there are other facets to your personality that only a few choice people ever get to see. One of these choice people is John Egbert.  
You are currently located in the Veil, on a small meteor that has sort of become a makeshift headquarters for the four of you. Today was supposed to be one of the days that you take over John's server duties, but Jade went and had a fit of narcolepsy and you were able to make sure her location was secure, so you decided you'd pay John a visit.  
You literally have all the time in the world, so you stroll casually down the hall towards the small lab where the bespectacled nerd keeps his computer. The halls are pretty bare, even though John and the girls have been trying to add some personality to the place with art and things (you're pretty sure Rose is trying to knit a rug), mostly just long, gray passages broken up by the occasional door leading to an empty room. You can actually see your reflection in the walls; it's distorted, yeah, and the colors are a little off, but it's there. You've thought about setting yourself up a mixing studio in one of those rooms, but there's just so much shit that needs to be done. All the time in the world seems like no time at all when it comes to frivolous shit like that.  
Isn't visiting John frivolous shit, too? Of fucking course not. The two of you have been best friends for years, even though it was only recently that you got to meet in person; and, man, are you ever fucking psyched to hang with your best bro in person. It's been weeks (months?) since you all started playing SBURB, but the excitement still hasn't worn off; not that you show how excited you are or anything. All your emotions are carefully hidden behind your poker face, at least until you have John alone, someplace private.  
The first couple weeks of you two actually being face-to-face were... well, the sexual tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and you both knew it. But, you know, John is “not a homosexual.”  
There was a point at which spending time together almost got too awkward and painful to bear, and you think that both of you were terrified of losing the other's friendship, though of course neither of you would say anything of the sort. You were damn close to just outright saying it, no bullshit, no running around the subject, no dropping mad rhymes, but it was John that finally brought it up first. What he had said, actually, was that you make him “feel funny,” and that was really all it took.  
You were on him like fucking white on rice, your hands all over his body, telling him exactly how the fuck you felt and being way more open with him than you ever were with anyone, ever. The words “I am not a homosexual” never left his mouth; you're pretty sure they never entered his mind.  
Another one of those things that neither of you say but both of you know is that your relationship could pretty well be summed up in one word: committed. You are Dave Strider, and you have a reputation for being one cool motherfucker, but there are other facets to your personality. Only John gets you to take off your shades. Only John gets you to smile as you kiss him and run your fingers through his totally-not-homosexual hair. Only John gets to curl up against your chest and fall asleep while you hold him in your arms. Only John.

DAVE: BE JOHN EGBERT ==>

You are John Egbert, and you are sitting at your computer, chatting with Karkat when Dave swaggers up behind you and totally take you by surprise. He just leans in over your shoulder and places a sweet, tender kiss on your neck, causing you to slam both your hands down on the keyboard and send your troll friend a string of random gibberish.  
“Dave!” you squeak. “Don't do that!” You spin the computer chair around to face Dave, who leans his hands on the chair arms to bring himself down to eye level with you. You can feel the blood burning in your cheeks and you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thoroughly embarassed. “Uhm, how come you're here?”  
“Jade decided it was a good time to take a nap, and she was someplace safe, so... I thought I'd come see you,” he says. “You okay with that?”  
You grin at him derpily, your face still burning, and nod. “I think I am definitely pretty okay with that, Dave.” You shift back in your chair and wind up accidentally hitting some buttons on the keyboard with your elbow, inadvertently turning on your webcam. You don't realize this, of course. Luckily for you, you've taped over the webcam lens in the Cosbytop after one too many occurrences like this one, so when the webcam window pops up, your video feed is totally black. The webchat is, of course, immediately hidden behind your chat window with Karkat. “Just, uhm, i dunno, let me tell Karkat I have to go do something.”  
Dave chuckles softly and pushes the keyboard to the other side of the desk, out of your reach. “You can leave Karkat hanging for a few minutes,” he says. “If I'm lucky, it'll put him in a bad mood and I can fight with him later. That's always fun." He places a knee on your chair, between your legs, and leans in to wrap his arms around your neck. “I've missed you, bro.”

JOHN: BE KARKAT VANTAS ==>

You are Karkat Vantas, and you are pissed off. You growl at your husktop screen in ittiration, staring at the string of blue gibberish in your Trollian window, which was the last thing Egbert sent you, though you've sent him four or five messages since that.  
You are pretty surprised when your video chat screen suddenly pops up, and you frown in confusion when you see that it's totally black. A few seconds later you hear voices coming through your speakers and your heart flutters a bit (like a caged featherbeast) when you realize that it's John's voice; he may have turned down your advances, but that did nothing to dispel your feelings. Your brows draw together in confusion when a second voice interjects, though you quickly realize who it is.  
“Damn that Dave Strider!” you growl. “What the fucking hell is he doing there, anyway?”  
“I missed you, too,” you hear John say. "And, you know, I really wouldn't mind keeping Karkat waiting a little while, but you've got to stop antagonizing him. He's really not that bad when he's not bitching.” Your heart does that obnoxious fluttery thing again at hearing that almost-comment from John. 'I can't believe that fucking human is defending me,' you think, shaking your head in mute surprise.

KARKAT: BE DAVE STRIDER ======>

You are Dave Strider, and you have your arms wrapped gently around your best friend's shoulders; his are wrapped loosely around your chest. You lean in a little further to nuzzle his neck, careful not to catch your shades on his pale, smooth, perfect skin.  
“He's so easy to get a rise out of, though,” you chuckle softly before turning your face and giving John a chaste kiss on the lips. “He must be the shittiest troll ever, seriously.”  
John makes a soft little noise, just one of his cute, derpy reactions, when your lips touch, and he turns read all the way to the tips of his ears again. “Did you ever think that, maybe, you're just a really awesome troll?” he asks. “Our kind of troll I mean. Well, I guess it would be his kind of troll too, except not a troll troll... and I just confused the hell out of myself.” He groans and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the chair. “Just kiss me and make me forget.”


	2. Chapter 2

DAVE: BE KARKAT VANTAS ==>

You are Karkat Vantas, and you just slammed both your hands down on your desk hard enough to make the entire thing wobble precariously. Your claws are digging deep into the wood as you stare at your husktop screen in horror.

 _Just kiss me and make me forget._

Dave Strider has his hands and his lips on John Egbert's body, and John is asking for more.

 _Just kiss me and make me forget._

A man is touching John's body, and he likes it.

 _Just kiss me and make me forget._

John turned you away for being male, and yet here he is asking a man, asking _Dave Strider_ , to kiss him. Your heart may be small and dark and full of hatred, but in that moment it is shattered. You dislodge your claws from the edge of the desk and send a single message before closing out the chat window in disgust.

CG: traitor

\- - carcinoGeneticist ceased trolling ectoBiologist - -

KARKAT: BE DAVE STRIDER =======>

You are Dave Strider, and you don't have to be told twice. You laugh and say “yes, sir,” before pulling John into a fierce kiss. The laptop beeps, alerting you to a message, but it falls on deaf ears.  
John moans wantonly into the kiss, tangling his fingers in your blonde hair; he doesn't hear the shrill beeping from the computer because at the moment he isn't aware of the computer's existence. At the moment, it is only you and him in the room, in the lab, in the Veil, in the universe. Only the to of you.  
He parts his lips for you, tongue darting out to trail across your lips in an unspoken invitation to take this further.  
You run your tongue eagerly over the sensitive surface of his palate, skillfully dodging those adorable, derpy teeth of his, and revel in the moans and whimpers that the boy lets out in response. You love making John moan; you love making him whimper, mewl, and sigh in pleasure. Anything you can do that makes John enjoy your presence more is fantastic and those noises he makes are like music to your ears; someday you want to record them and mix them into a song that no one else will ever hear.

DAVE: BE JOHN EGBERT ==>

You are John Egbert, and you are NOT a homosexual. You would never admit, even to yourself, that Dave is all that you ever have, ever will, or ever could want. You would never admit, even to yourself, that you _crave_ Dave Strider. You are NOT a homosexual, so you will never admit to any of those things, not even to yourself.  
But... maybe to Dave. Maybe you would admit those things to him, because you are hopelessly, blindly, head-over-heels in love with him.  
You moan and press yourself closer to Dave's body, your arms wrapped tight around him. He cups a hand around the back of your neck and kisses you so deep, so sweet and tender, and it's the best thing you've ever experienced; it feels this ay every time, but every time it's like new all over again.  
You tug on him, wanting him closer, wanting as much contact as you can get; he slips forward on the chair a bit, his knee pressing into your crotch. You let out a surprised little whimper and press against him, quite accidentally. Of course it's accidental; it would be decidedly homosexual if it weren't.

JOHN: BE DAVE STRIDER ==>

You are Dave Strider, and you are loving every second of this. You press your knee a little more firmly against that bulge in John's pants and a shiver runs down your spine at the loud moan you get in response. His hair is soft as you twine your fingers through the dark locks and gently tug his head back to trail kisses down his throat. Your lips linger over his adam's apple for a moment, sucking at it lightly and eliciting another sweet moan from him. “Mmm, John... I love you, bro,” you purr.  
He blushes again and looks at you, glasses askew. “I love you, too, Dave,” he says. He rolls his hips into your thigh, and you smirk; that must have been accidental, because otherwise it would be decidedly homosexual. Nonetheless, you smile indulgently and slide a hand between your bodies to grope him as you kiss. You know what he really wants, but you have all the time in the world, so you want to slow down and enjoy this.  
He moans loudly, the sound pitiful and needy and absolutely beautiful. His fingers twist into the front of your shirt and he arches against you, pressing himself into you hand. “D-Dave...!” he cries, tossing his head back.  
You kiss the exposed skin of his throat again, nipping at it lightly, and deftly slide your hand into the younger boy's pants. The angle is a little awkward, but you don't worry about it because it won't be that way for long. “Mmm... Yeah, John?” you ask softly. “What do you want?”  
He pulls on your shirt, and you totally don't even mind that he's stretching it out. “Everything!” he moans, his voice pure desperation. “Gog, Dave, I want you so bad. Please. Please, Dave, I want you!” Every word of it goes straight to your cock.  
“Alright, alright,” you say, as if you're doing him a favor; as if you don't want it every bit as badly as he does. “But not in your flimsy-ass chair.”  
You pick him up easily; the little nerd doesn't weight much, even though he's put on a good deal of muscle since you started the game. As you carry him over to the bed, a perfect replica of the one in John's bedroom at home, you carefully strip every piece of clothing off of him without once losing stride. By the time you get him to the bed, all he's got left are his Green Slime Ghost socks, which you quickly dispose of; if it were anyone else, you wouldn't care how much or little clothing they were wearing, but this is John Egbert and every inch of skin you get to touch is priceless.

DAVE: BE JOHN EGBERT ==>

You are John Egbert, and you are nervous as shit, just like you are every time; you blush and bite your lip (you're going to chew a hole through that thing one of these days if you're not careful) as you look up at him. You're not embarrassed because you're naked, you don't care if Dave sees you, because you know he thinks you're perfect; you're embarrassed because of what you want to ask him.  
“Dave?” you squeak shyly. “W-will you... Will you leave them on again? While you... while you fuck me?”  
Dave's face splits into a sincere smile, without even the faintest hint of smug, and he nods. “Yeah, baby. I know how you like it when I do,” he purrs. He starts to strip, moving quickly without ever having the appearance of hurrying; Striders never hurry because Striders are never late. His jacket is the first to go, a classy number that he's taken to wearing since Davesprite showed up, and he tosses it onto the back of the computer chair; then his shirt with the broken record emblem on it is the next to go, followed by his pants and then his socks. Somehow Dave manages to look sexy while taking his socks off, which you were pretty sure was impossible. When he's naked except for his shades, the shades you bought him, he kneels on the edge of the bed and places his hands on either side of your head.  
There's a soft, shy smile on your face as you lean up to brush your lips against his. “I love you, Dave,” you say again. “You know that, right?” When you lightly run your fingers down his cheek, you can feel him smiling, and you know he only does that for you.  
“Yeah, baby. I know,” he replies coolly. He loves you, too, of course, but saying things like that would interrupt the flow he's got going on; you weren't really expecting him to say it, anyway. He cups your cheek and strokes his thumb across your cheekbone tenderly before moving his hand to slide his first two fingers past your lips.  
As those two long, slender digits enter your mouth, you close your eyes and give them the attention they need. You suck lightly on his fingers, making sure to be extra thorough because the slicker you get them, the less it's going to hurt at first. This is all routine by now. The truth be told, you actually kind of like doing this, though that's another one of those things you'd never admit to.  
When you've got his fingers suitably coated, he gently disengages them from your lips and lifts your hips slightly. When he's properly situated between your thighs, he hooks his arm around your waist and suddenly one of those slick fingers is pressed into your puckered opening.  
Dave Strider has some unique fingers. They're of the long and slender variety, common to artists and musicians (of which Dave is both, of course), but unique in the way they're calloused only at the tips. His index and middle fingers are the most calloused, but they're present on all ten digits. The callouses, of course, are from his skilled and near-constant use of his turntables.  
You gasp and a shudder runs down your body. Your cheeks are flushed darkly as you look up at him, unable to see his eyes though his shades; somehow that makes you even harder and you squirm. It doesn't hurt, having his finger inside you like that, but it's always just a little uncomfortable at first. That discomfort is quickly dispelled as he starts to move the digit slowly in and out of your body, rubbing the calloused tip against the heated walls of your passage.  
He leans down to moan softly into your ear. “Nngh, John... You're always so tight.” That makes you squirm again, a whimper escaping your lips. Of course you're tight; he likes you tight, and you like what he likes.

JOHN: BE DAVE STRIDER ==>

You are Dave Strider and right now you're leaning over your best friend's body, kissing and sucking at his neck as you get him prepared for what's to come. Every second of this is pure fucking magic; those sweet, desperate noises he makes are inimitable. He squirms and moans beneath you as you stretch him, holding onto you like a lifeline, and you feel a little smug in the knowledge that this is all yours and no one else is going to experience it.  
“Mmm, John,” you breathe softly in his ear, “do you like this?”  
He doesn't even really have to answer; you know what he's going to say when he arches up off the bed with a moan. “G-gog, yes! Oh, it feels so good, Dave!” His face is scarlet, but you suspect that he doesn't really care. From his gasps and moans of pleasure, you read that he's ready for the next bit and you slide a second finger into him, feeling him instantly tense around you.  
“You're such a good boy, John,” you purr softly, kissing any bit of skin you can get your lips on. “You just let me know if I'm hurtin' you.”  
“Y-you could n-never hurt me, Dave,” he gasps out. His back arches again, forcing his hips up and your fingers deeper inside him, and he lets out a pleasured cry. When he looks up at you his eyes are glassy with pleasure and it's like he's just screaming 'fuck me, Dave. Fuck me.' You're sure he has no clue just what he's doing to your libido, but damn if that isn't the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your entire life. You can't help but let a moan escape your lips as you scissor your fingers inside him and he just writhes in pleasure. Fuck, this is hot.  
“G-gog, Dave!” he whimpers. “H-hurry! I n-need you! I need you s-so bad, Davie!” He's pleading, begging you, but that isn't even the thing that makes your cock ache, that makes it nigh impossible for you to not just fuck him into the mattress right now; it's that nickname. Only he ever calls you that, and it makes you so hard you can't think straight. “Davie...! Davie, [i]please[/i]!”  
And, gog, you can't handle it; it's just too much. You scissor your fingers one last time, hoping it's enough, and pull your hand away to grip his hips tightly. You only give him one brief moment of warning, your cock pressed firmly against his ass, before you're inside him and oh gog, it is just the most delicious feeling ever.

DAVE: BE JOHN EGBERT ==>  
You are John Egbert, and you can hardly even breathe for the nonstop little gasps and moans of pleasure flying from your lips. You're almost disappointed when he pulls his hand away, but you know what is to come is going to be even better; then suddenly he's inside you and you let out a shrill cry. The first thrust always hurts a little, but it's nothing you can't live with; he always makes it up to you and by the end of it you forget you've ever been in pain in your life.  
You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, trying to pull him to you; all you can do is plead with your eyes, your voice temporarily lost to you, begging him to hold you while he makes love to you because it's just the best thing. Being in his arms is the most perfect feeling in the world, and you can't imagine ever loving anyone the way you love Dave.  
His lips quirk up into the faintest smile and he leans down to gather you into his arms, his face pressed into your shoulder; your head snaps back with a cry of pleasure when he thrusts into you again, apparently having decided you'd had long enough to adjust, and he steals the opportunity to lavish your neck and chest with kisses all over again. Wave after wave of pleasure is washing through your body as he fucks you, and you just want to let yourself drown in it.  
“Davie! Oh, gog, Davie, m-more!” you beg, only barely aware that you're speaking. Your glassy eyes are fixed on the faint outline of Dave's, hidden behind his shades, and you just can't stand it. As he thrusts into you again, you move your hips up to meet him, forcing him deeper; he takes your hint and you grind roughly against one another, nearly identical moans forced from both your lips.  
He shifts his weight when he pulls back from you again, and this time when he thrusts you find yourself arched drastically off of the bed, your shoulders not even touching the mattress as you toss your head back into the pillow. Your body tenses at the intense pleasure, your legs hook around his back, your toes curl, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know you must have tightened around him because he lets out a harsh cry and his fingers suddenly dig into your hips. And then, oh gog, he's _grinding_ against that spot, and you're clawing at his back, and it feels _so fucking good_.  
You don't know how much longer you can last like this, and you don't really fucking care; grinding back against him, getting him as deep inside you as possible, getting him to fill you is all you care about right now, and oh, it is glorious. When he thrusts into you again, your vision goes white and all you can feel is electricity, and then a rush of fire as he fills you and you both fall, panting, against the sheets.

JOHN: BE DAVE STRIDER ==>

You are Dave Strider, and John is the best thing that's ever happened to you.


	3. Chapter 3

DAVE: BE KARKAT VANTAS =======>

You are Karkat Vantas, and you're absolutely disgusted with... with everything; with him for lying to you, with yourself for having feelings for him (you were flushed for him and you know it. Stupid, stupid, stupid.), with Strider for ruining everything. You hurt, gogdamnit. You hurt and no one could ever understand. You're not even sure _you_ understand how you're feeling right now. The past few minutes have just been a blur of emotional whiplash for you, and you're just so... so disappointed. And, really, that's worse than the disgust, because at least disgust had a bit of hatred in it; this disappointment just leaves you feeling empty. And it's with that terrible empty feeling in the pit of your stomach that you wander out of the computer hub and head back to your respiteblock, not even bothering to bring your husktop along.  
You spend a long time sitting on your bed and just staring into the darkness, unable to motivate your broken spirit to do anything more. It's pathetic, and you hate yourself for it, but you just can't help yourself. Despite the convincing front you put up, you're not actually the hardass that you want to be; you're vulnerable, and the shouting it just your way of protecting your feelings. There's no one to shout at now, though. There's nothing you can do to make this situation any less shitty and painful. You're not even quite sure how to deal with this kind of pain; all those years of living and fighting with your lusus taught you to just shrug off physical pain, but emotions are something you're still learning to understand.

But maybe....

If you hurt yourself growing up, if you fell down the stairs or whatever, your lusus would just hit you somewhere else and make you forget that the other part of you hurt in the first place. You eye your scythe, propped up in the corner of the room, and a terrible, crazy, stupid idea starts to take shape in your head.

KARKAT: BE JOHN EGBERT ======>

You are John Egbert. It's been a few minutes, and Dave is lying beside you, his breathing slow and even and his arm draped across your chest. Both of you are covered in sweat, and your clothes are still scattered around the room, as neither of you has worked up the energy to get up yet. In the growing silence, you suddenly notice pesterChum beeping at you from the computer screen. With a herculean effort, you manage to push yourself into a sitting position with entirely too relaxed muscles and blink tiredly at the screen. The text is far to fuzzy to read from this distance, but you can see that it's gray, so Karkat must have been messaging you while the two of you were, uh, “busy”.  
You feel a little bad for leaving him hanging with no explanation, so you heave yourself up from the bed with a groan. Dave makes a little irritated noise when you move away and shoots you a halfhearted glare as if to say 'why would you even bother?' When you get back over to the chair, your brow furrows in confusion at Karkat's last message. A traitor? But, why would he say something like that? And why didn't he type it in all caps like usual?  
That's when your eye is drawn toward the bottom of the screen, to a window that's been minimized. You click on it, and your confusion grows temporarily when you see that it's a plain black screen; it takes you a moment to realize that this is a camchat window. Dave sits up when he sees the look of growing horror on your face. “John? Bro, what's wrong?”

“...I think Karkat just heard all of that, Dave.”

JOHN: BE SOLLUX CAPTOR ==>

You are Sollux Captor, and you have just arrived in the computer hub. No one else is there, but KK's husktop is sitting, abandoned, on one of the desks. That is incredibly strange, since KK is usually very protective of his computer, especially when you're around; he knows you could hack into it any time you want, so he tends to keep it out of your reach. You go and tap the touchpad, waking the computer back up and bringing up his logon screen. It only takes you a couple of tries to guess his password; Gog, he is just so transparent. Of course his password would be 'BLACKROM.' It looks like he was still in the middle of doing things when he left, and there are some unanswered pesters from TZ. It looks like he's been away from the computer for a while. That is just so strange.  
You decide not to code any viruses into his hard drive after all, and instead pick up the husktop and set off in search of your friend. It's not usually like you to worry, but it's not usually like KK to leave his stuff sitting out unprotected.  
You stop in front of his door and knock, but receive no response. You begin to walk away, but then you notice the distinctive chlorine smell of troll blood, and your mind immediately goes into a panic. You don't think you've heard KK's voice amongst those of the imminently deceased, but you haven't been listening for it, so you freak the fuck out anyway and pull roughly on the locked door. It takes you a minute to remember that you're psychic, and you click the lock open with your mind.

SOLLUX: BE JOHN EGBERT ======>

You are John Egbert, and you are perfectly horrified. Karkat wasn't supposed to find out about you and Dave; you can only imagine what he must think. He probably thinks you lied to him about not liking guys just to get him to lay off, even though that's not the case at all. Oh, jeeze, that totally explains the “traitor” comment. Oh, this can't be good at all.  
Dave gets up from the bed and walks over to wrap his arms around your shoulders in what he clearly means to be a comforting gesture, though it only serves to make you feel worse about all of this. Karkat must be feeling so shitty right now.  
The computer beeps at you again and you look down to see that you have a pester from a user you don't recognize. It's definitely not anyone you've talked to before, but he's got one of those silly typing quirks and types in yellow, so you assume it must be one of the trolls. You think you remember Karkat talking about a friend of his who typed in yellow.

\- - twinArmageddons [TA] began trolling ectoBiologist [EB] - -  
TA: are you kk2 john human?  
EB: uhm i wouldn't really say that i'm his human  
EB: but yeah, i'm john  
TA: iim not here two have a cordiial fuckiing conversatiion wiith you human  
TA: ii want two know what you diid to kk  
EB: i didn't do anything!  
EB: not on purpose anyway!  
EB: is he mad? i bet he's mad.  
EB: :(  
EB: oh noooooooo  
TA: ii dont know what you diid  
TA: but you better fiix iit or youre goiing two be 2orry  
EB: is he okay?  
EB: oh gosh please tell me he's okay  
TA: well he triied to cull hiim2elf  
TA: doe2 that 2ound okay to you john  
EB: oh my gosh what?

You and Dave, who was reading over your shoulder, both clap your hands over your mouths in horror at the same time; it would have been comical if the situation weren't so dire. You can't believe Karkat Vantas would do something like that, but this troll doesn't have any reason to lie to you, at least not that you know of. And if it weren't true, how would he even know that anything had happened between you and Karkat? But, of course, you aren't consciously thinking about any of those things. Your mind is too preoccupied with “oh my gosh, Karkat, I am so sorry!”

EB: he's gonna be okay right?  
EB: oh gosh he has to be okay!  
EB: oh please tell me hes gonna be alright!  
TA: jegu2 okay  
TA: he2 gonna be fiine but ii want two know what the fuck you diid to make hiim do 2omethiing thii2 2tupiid iin the fiir2t place  
EB: uhm  
EB: well  
TA: well  
TA: 2piit iit out already would you  
EB: you know how he has kind of a crush on me  
TA: ii thiink 'kiind of a cru2h' ii2 kiind of an under2tatement  
EB: right  
EB uhm well anyway  
EB: i think he might have heard me kind of doing stuff with dave  
EB: who is kind of uh  
EB: my boyfriend

Wow, that was a lot harder to type out than it should have been. Dave nudges you in the back of the head with his elbow and asks “kind of?”

EB: well  
EB: definitely my boyfriend  
TA: ii thought you diidnt do guy2  
TA: wa2nt that your problem wiith kk iin the fiir2t place?  
EB: well i thought i didnt either  
EB: but dave's different i guess  
EB: i don't really know  
EB: i don't really think about it  
TA: well ii gue22 ii can 2ee how that would upset hiim  
EB: uhm yeah  
TA: what are you goiing two do about iit  
EB: i don't know! what can i do?  
TA: ii dont thiink that2 2omethiing ii can deciide for you  
EB: oh gosh


End file.
